


The Trees Through the Forest

by What_a_wildman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Fate, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Powerful Harry Potter, Time Travel, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16257899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_a_wildman/pseuds/What_a_wildman
Summary: Harry knew that after the fall of Voldemort, his responsibility as Master of Death had only just begun.He hadn't fully expected the entire world to change around him, but confronted with yet another Dark Lord, Harry knows his role in Fate's game. Now he just has to decide if he's willing to fulfill this role once more.





	The Trees Through the Forest

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I've been playing with for a while now, but I'm quite a slow writer. I'm not incredibly well versed in Lord of the Rings mythology, so please forgive any errors, and enjoy!

When the war ended, Harry felt exhaustion so deep in his bones that it seemed the feeling would never leave him. 

This was, of course, to be expected. After years of fighting and fear, not to mention dying-and-undying, merely finding the energy to return to his friends, eat something resembling a meal, and find a vaguely safe spot to curl up and sleep was enormously taxing. Hours of sleep left Harry feeling no more rested, but there were too many things to do - people to help, rubble to move, and fallen to mourn – for Harry to sit and rest as his body pleaded for him to do.

Weeks passed and Harry threw himself into the rebuilding of Hogwarts. He wasn’t the boy he’d once been – quieter, more focused on his daily tasks, and, still, seemingly drained. As months passed, the wizarding world reverted to an increasingly normal, pre-war state. The Ministry of Magic, having officially pardoned Harry, Ron, and Hermione for their ‘crimes’ under the previous regime, encouraged Harry to work alongside his friends as Aurors – whether in the apprehension of potentially dangerous beings, alongside Ron, or in research and development with Hermione. But Harry had no interest in working for the Ministry or, really, venturing outside of Hogwarts if he could help it. 

When, a little over a year after the Final Battle, the reconstruction of the school was complete, Harry stayed on as groundskeeper in place of Hagrid. Quietly maintaining the grounds and avoiding direct contact with the students as much possible, the years passed quickly for Harry. Decades and centuries, even, slipped by as Harry grew increasingly recluse, driven away from his friends, fans, and colleagues through his pervasive exhaustion, until in a moment of clarity a thought slithered through his mind’s haze: he was utterly alone in the world.

This is not to say that there were no other people. The human race, both muggle and magical, had carried on as always, with great strides towards peace inevitably pushed back by conflict. But as generations of Weasleys, Lupins and even Malfoys had come and gone, Harry realised that he was the last person on earth with any recollection of the people and events that had been so cornerstone to his life. And while his name was forever etched in the history books, integral to the events of the First and Second Purity wars, as a living and breathing man, Harry Potter was no longer thought of by anyone living. 

At the moment of this realisation, Harry rose from his seat next to the hearth, extinguishing the fire and crossing the room to his kitchen. Eating a sandwich that, for the first time in centuries, had a taste to him, a mere thought was enough to have Harry’s magic summoning his most prized possessions – his long disused wand, an overflowing photo album, a broomstick, and of course the Deathly Hallows – and packing them away into a deceptively small moleskin pouch. 

Task completed, Harry dismantled the wards on his cottage as he left it and made his way into the Forbidden Forest. After so much time spent in it, there was no part of the woods left unfamiliar to him, and nothing left that could possibly harm him. With an easy, silent confidence, Harry wove his way through the trees until he was deep in the heart of the forest. In the shade of towering sycamores and yews, Harry took a deep breath and sunk his bare feet into the mud of a creek bed. 

Closing his eyes, he let his magic run free and wild into the nature until he heard a voice speaking to him. “Have you finally come for what you need, my child?” the voice breathed. With a slight smile, he replied in his mind, knowing this would suffice. “What I need is to die. As that option has been taken from me, I am in search of the next best thing. My soul is tired, I need to rest.” The ghost of a hand caressed his cheek, wiping up a tear Harry didn’t realised he had shed. “Of course, my child. You have done enough for many lifetimes, though I fear you will be called upon once more, and all too soon. Rest now.” 

With these gentle words, Harry could feel magic seep into him from his very surroundings – from the trees and the rock, the animals, even the air around him. His body started to change, legs sinking into the mud, toes lengthening, body turning hard and stiff as limbs spread from his body. As leaves grew, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as his body twisted into that of a magnificent oak. And then, finally, he slept. 

_________________________________________________________________________________

The years passed much faster for a sleeping tree than they ever had for a conscious man. Unintentionally protected by the sheer force of magic that continued to pour off his form, Harry remained unaware of the rise and fall of numerous battles and wars. Centuries passed and the human race divided, driven apart by differences in politics and culture that would ultimately seem inconsequential, but which would ripple through the human experience. These groups sequestered themselves away, suspicious of the others for reasons they could no longer remember, and grew increasingly insular. Shaped by their environments, these groups diverged both culturally and physically as the Millennia slipped by. 

Those who had followed Aulë into the mountains benefitted from a shorter but sturdier build to protect them from the cold of the stone and allow them to carve out the necessary living spaces in the unforgiving land. However, the Dwarves – as they would come to be known – became increasingly skilled at their craft, creating magnificent palaces of stone, metal, and gems within the mountains.   
For a longer time, those who followed Eru remained together, living off the land despite their differences. However, these differences would ultimately separate them. Men retained control of much of the land, farming and shaping it into their desired form. The Elves took refuge in the woods, preferring to live alongside the land, trees, and animals rather than control and manipulate it. As they moved into dark depths of the trees, their eyesight and hearing grew more sensitive to allow them to find their way. For some time, there was peace between Men and Elves, but it could not last. Long standing resentments came to head, and by the time they were resolved, a smaller group separated from the Men, favouring a peaceful existence to conflict with the other cultures. So it was that the gentle Hobbits took to the vales, their diminutive frames ideal for burrowing into the land and living in sun and peace. 

These groups ceased to consider themselves as one, instead focusing on the separations between their ‘races’. As they came to be, the world around them changed too. Modern buildings and cities, torn apart during the initial conflicts millennia ago, crumbled into the land. Nature once again asserted itself, vast plains of grasslands and towering forests taking their place. Through it all, Harry slept on, unaware of his surroundings but protected by his magic. As his slept, his soul healed and the land around him – once the Forbidden Forest – grew beautiful with the splendour of the woods. As was their nature, the Elves were drawn to the land, naming the thriving forest Imladris and building a flourishing city. And in its core, oblivious, slept Harry. 

It was only with the ringing of a great and powerful evil that Harry started to stir. As the Rings of Power first crossed the mind of Sauron, Harry became increasingly aware of his surroundings, though he had neither the means nor the inclination to alter his form. While he shook the haze of sleep from his mind, a gentle voice welcomed Harry back, warning him of the changes that had shaped the earth since he last walked it, and teaching him the languages of those who now inhabited it. Although this felt like mere moments to Harry, the course of this explanation carried on as the Rings of Power were cast and brought to the Elves. Harry watched on, pleased to see the Elves reject the rings, recognizing their twisted power.

As the rings spread out across the mortal world, manipulating the minds of Dwarves and turning Men to Nazgûl, Harry gazed with interest on the lives of the Elves, amused by their daily lives and the rearing of the last few Elvlings. Less amused, he watched on as war came to Imladris, drawing out elder Elves to fight for the fall of Sauron. With the Dark lord’s fall, Harry enjoyed the period of peace, temporary though he knew it to be, and considered his options. Certainly he had, by now, the strength to return to his human form, and he no longer needed the deep rest granted to him as an oak. But he lacked the inclination to return to a human life, preferring to hold on to his quiet solitude for as long as he could. 

Harry therefore retained his oak form, watching over the elves with an amused but caring gaze, and allowing his magic to help the forest thrive. He would have continued to do so for another few lifetimes if something evil had not come to Imladris. So it was that, in front of Elves, Men, Hobbits, and Dwarves, and driven by the raising of an axe, Harry gave a great groan and shuddered back to his human form.


End file.
